


Untitled

by LillyGrant (orphan_account)



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Cooking, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Self Harm, Suicide Attempt, YouTube, its get better I promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-18 22:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8177858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/LillyGrant
Summary: Running only good when you have a real destination. The problem with you is that your destination is death. When Mark Fishbach, a raising YouTube star, finds you about to fall off a bridge you'll find that maybe it's a little too early to be dying.





	1. Red

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys I hope you enjoy my story, it's been a while since I posted a story so there might be some mistakes. I'll try to reread it often to fix these. Also, leave a comment it you like it or have a suggestion. I'll try to post at least once a week maybe more often if I get inspired. Thanks for reading :)

A bottle of cheap rum burned down your throat as you swayed on the ledge. Your numb,almost blue feet dangled over the passing cars. It wasn't nearly as steep to kill you but you could dream right? The images were suppress by watery tears and drunk intoxication. 

You lick your bruised lip before pouring more alcohol into your month. The scars that riddled your wrist were stained red with the pink angry flesh surrounding the dried blood. Your head throbbed more than ever but it only made you tip the bottle's remaining content into your mouth. 

Your phone rang once again but your ignored it. Your on and off boyfriend had hit your once again causing your hesitant depart from him. His eyes were like your own e/c eyes but always sparkled when he drank. They would light up like x rays as he would survey your body. The mere thought of his eager hands roaming your protesting body send another cold shiver up for now blue body.

It was almost time. The breaking point where the consciousness would leave for good and you slip off the edge and into your death. If you didn't died from the impact, then hypothermia or blood loss would get to you. 

You broke the emptied bottle on the sidewalk and made 10 long cut on each limb. The blood pooled and you sliced more one across your stomach for good measure. 

The darkness was slowly taking you. The heaviness of your thin little body was too much to hold and you slumped over. Your eyelids pulled the darkness from your soul into your sight and you smiled at the thought. 

Sounds and lights were only faintly registered in your dying body. Red. Something so red you almost wished your weren't too busy dying so you could see it. It was too bright to be blood from your wrist but something else.

 

(3rd POV)

The red thing was actually a man. A man who instantly cared about the dying girl would as about to fall off the edge of the bridge. He parked his car quickly, barely braking before leaping out to catch her. Her h/c hair clung to her face in a cold sweat. Her lip were blue from the midnight air and something wet and sticky seemed to stick to his hands as he pulled her to safety.

He picked up the small woman, concerned for the lack of mass he felt, and carried her to his car. The cuts had almost stopped bleeding and only the stain around her shirt showed that any harm was done. In the darkness, he couldn't see her wrist or thigh that she had decorated from earlier that night.

He took her to his own house and carried her in. The warm heater blasted them with air, causing her to slowly regain consciences.

 

(Y/N POV)  
The veil of blackness was lifted from your vision but you could only make out fuzzy shapes. The red thing had morphed into a person. This person was currently carrying you into what looked like a house. Were you already in heaven?

The house was warm and as the lights turned on, it was clear that not many people lived here. You looked toward the man carrying. His was face was clearer and you could see that it was his hair was the thing colored red. You didn't bother to open your mouth to protest when he layed you on a couch and covered it with a blanket. You were too tired to really care anyways.

Once you were settled he disippeared off to another room. The sounds of clattering pots and pan and his useless shushes made you stir. There was a TV against wall, a dog bed in the corner, and another brownish blanket that rested on the L shaped couch you were on. 

The click-clack of dog nails against the tile caught you off guard and before you knew it, a big yellow dog was right in front of your face. 

"Ah Chica, come here! A red haired man cried. The dog did as she was told but left with a sly grin on her face.

"Sorry about her. I'm Mark." 

You extended your own cold hand to shake his. He put a steaming bowl of what looked like tomato soup on the table next to you.

"I'm y/n. Um I should probably be going now. Thank you for um taking me in. I don't really remember how I got here." 

You start the stand but the cut on your stomach causes you to fall back. The slow trickle blood from the reopened wound is surprisingly cold instead of warm.

"Um d-do you have a um first aide kit?" Your voice is strained from the embarrassment and pain. 

His eyes slowly widen at the sight of your shirt absorbing the blood before he rushes to find a kit.

Within minutes he returns with a stack of bandages and rubbing alcohol. You quickly get to work, flinching again at the sting of the alcohol.

"You know, um you can stay the night. It's about midnight and it's really cold out. I made some soup." His suggestion is tempting you but then the thought of his hands feeling up your protesting body makes you feel sick.

"No, it's fine, I well, I have a boyfriend. I can stay with him tonight." Your head feels likes it underwater when you say those words a loud. Mark frowns at your sudden change of tone. It sounds even more weak and desolate than before. Instead of standing up to leave, your oddly drawn to the couch.

"Can I ask you something?"  
"Sure." You eyes the soup and slowly pick it up.  
"Why were you on the bridge?"  
You swallow hard and rest the soup in your cross legged lap.  
"I was very sad." The soup suddenly looks more interesting than Mark's puppy dog eyes.  
"Do you really have a boyfriend."  
"An ex boyfriend but I'm not lying when I say I can stay with him tonight." You couldn't convince yourself to lie to the person that saved your life. The red haired man who was so genuine couldn't be filled with your lies.  
"Does he hurt you?"  
...  
"Y/n, does he-"  
"YES!" You yell quickly. You lick your lips in an deperate attempt to take your words back. Your breath is now shaky and it rattles your weak lungs. Your hands shake so hard you have to rest the soup back on the table so you don't spill it.  
"Yes. When he's drunk or angry, yes he hurts me. I agree with him that is my fault but I don't believe it. H-how is it my fault that waiter at the restaurant was a man? Or that it was my fault that a man accidentally bumped into me? D-do I deserve to be hit when I forget to made him coffee?" Hot heavy tears streamed down your face as you let it all out. Every sob shook your entire body like a hurricane.

You barely noticed Mark slowly embrace you in a tight hug. It wasn't like David's crushing hold on you but it was more like something that keep you grounded. 

"No, it's not your fault. Ok?" The sounds of loud and heavy sobs and calming shushes made you relax into his embrace. Soon you were just taking sharp inhales of air as Mark rocked you back and forth. The gentle motions caused you to fall asleep. Your eye lids were getting heavy and another cloud of darkness was surrounding you. You welcomed it not because it was death, but because you knew that when you woke up, things would be a lot better.


	2. Pancakes

You wake to the smell of sweet pancakes and the burning sensation of acid in your dry, dehydration throat. You look down to see your once white tank was caked with the dried blood from before. 

Strangely, your in a bed. Not David's bed that reeked of cigarettes and broken promises but this one was soft. Evergreen aftershave and sweet dreams encased you like a hug. Right away you realized that it was too good to be David's bed. 

You reluctantly slid away from the warm sheet and onto the soft tan carpet. Your nose traced the smell to the kitchen where you find Mark. His red tufts of hair all out of shapes but he still carried that lopsided grin. The happiness was contagious and you caught yourself smiling as well.

"So y/n, tell me about yourself?" You debated over how much he needed to know and what could be spun into a better light.  
"Well, I'm 25, I was born in Daisywoods California and I do YouTube for a living." The mention of YouTube light up Mark's face quickly causing another smile to grace your face.  
"I'm a YouTuber too! I do horror lets play. My chnnel's name Markiplier."  
"I think I've heard of you. I don't really do much in the gaming category. I do DIY and baking. Well I used to least. Now I work at a Starbucks nearby." The tone of defeat was ever more recognizable than you had wished but you couldn't take back your words.  
"Why did you quit?"  
"Well, um it's complicated." You forced on the swirling marble rather than Marks cornered eyes. The puppy dog brown seemed to be like truth serum on you.  
"Was it your boyfriend that wanted you to stop?"  
...

Floods of memories rushed back to you in crashing waves.  
You pull your sleeves even further down as if it could erase the damage he caused. The names he called swirled like the marble you deperately fouced on and the marks on your body throbbed even more than before. It wasn't until a soft hand pulled your bruised chin up did you look into his eyes. Although you flinched at his touch, he didn't shy away.

"Please don't go back there y/n." His rich voice illustrated a perfect picture in your mind for your tear soaked eyes couldn't see his face.

"I-I have to Mark its...it's complicated." Your mind tried to get the words out but it failed. The pain and the simplicity of the truth only showed that you were were stupid and weak. 

After a moment of thoughtful silent Mark placed a plate with two small pancakes with strawberries in front of your blank face. Ironically, the strawberries formed a smiling face which was completely opposite to your own. Your e/c eyes had dried but your h/c hair still stuck to the salty streaks on your face.

"Eat up, we have to do get your stuff from your boyfriend after breakfast." His word sounded insane compared to his calm tone.  
Your raise an eyebrow whist carefully eating your buttery, happy pancakes. From cool mental fork to hesitant tounge you taste the sweetness of your old favorite food.

"Um, I don't think I have a place to go Mark, believe me if I did, I would leave." 

That was a semi-lie. You were always drawn to David. Yes he hit and cussed and did horrible things but there was an other side. A side of him that would bring flower home for no reason or rush home on his lunch break to visit you at work for 10 minutes before leaving. 

You put up with him for 3 years because of it. However he would sometimes spend those 10 minutes hitting you in the back room or bring flowers to apologize for cheating on you. It was a nasty trade but what can you do?

 

"Y/n, you can stay with me. Rent fee, I have an extra bedroom with a bathroom attached. You can made videos again if you wanted to or keep working at a Starbucks."

The offer was extremely tempting. You really wanted to make videos now that you were away from David. The long list of DIY ideas you had could finally complete if you stayed here. 

But pings of worry and fear about who Mark was eating away at you. He could easily over power you any day over anything. In a fight, in a bed, he would win against you. That was more scary than going back to the slumps where you lived. The thought of Mark not being the poster child for perfect friend. Of course there would be arguments and maybe the cold shoulder some days but him becoming everything David was hurt more than the cigarette burns on your back.

You had to say no.

"Ok Mark, I'll stay with you but I'm going to pay rent and I'll only stay for a little while." You mentally cussed at yourself for your stupid words but it really couldn't be undone, you were secretly happy anyways.

(Mark POV)

I watched y/n for a second before realizing how much it pained her to leave. I thought she would jump at the chance to leave but I could see the hesitation in were e/c eyes. It was like she wanted to say yes the entire time but fear controlled her. 

"Y/n, are you afraid of me?" My question caught her off guard as she slowly swallowed the last of her pancake. Again, she refused to look in the eyes.  
"I-I'm not afraid of you but..." She words trailed off in pain. "I'm just afraid that you'll be like Daivd." 

Now it was my turn to face the marble conter. How could I be so stupid? How could I think that it would be easy for her to trade one idiot abuser for a total stranger who might hurt her? 

"I'm so sorry Y/N. I promise you that I'll never hurt you." She looked up and her e/c eye pierced my soul. She wore a sad smile on her red lips.  
"Mark, don't make promises you can't keep."


	3. Gone

You take shakey steps toward the once familiar door. It feels like weeks, years even, since you been in front of the door. It's faded red paint was dirty and peeling off the wooden door and its rusty hinges. At first it was funny.

It's was funny had David wore a suit and tie to work to come home to such a dirty place. It was like a switch, you thought.

At work he was the poster child from good behavior. On time, clean hair cut, friendly smile. At home, he was late in his greasy brown hair with a wicked grin.

You knock hesitantly on the door. You had begged Mark not to come, you couldn't bare the pity if he saw where you once lived. Once the door opened with it traditional creak, the smell of cheap rum, the same kind that you tried to get drunk off of oh so long ago, filled your nose. It burned your big e/c eyes but your ex didn't seem to mind.

"Y/n, baby, I was so worried about you. I tried to call but you didn't answer."

"I'm here to get my things."

His nose crinkled slightly at the staleness of your voice but you didn't give in.

"Honey, you know I'm sorry for hitting you, I mean we can work this out."

"I'm done trying, I just came for my things." His nose crinkled again but this time, the distain in his voice was palpable.

"You don't get to tell me what to do. This is why I hit you, you just think that you own me!"

"That is not true!"

_slap, pause, breathe_

You can feel the stinging sensation on your reddened cheek and the burning cut from his rings that sliced your flesh. You softly gasp in what shouldn't be surprise.

"Look, this isn't over until I say it it."

You were at a dangerous cross road. You could easily retreat in understandable tears or you could march in and take your meek pile of possession and leave. 

The blood that dribbled slowly down your cut cheek fueled your will power.

"It's over." Your voice was stronger than the lump in your throat and shocked him so much that he barely registered you pushing through him. You took only clothes and family treasure in a single suitcase. It took all of 5 minutes to jam the last bits of your life into the case. 

"You'll be back." 

"No, I'm gone for good." You were already halfway out before he spoke. His voice was oddly soft and pleading. 

"Its our 3 year anniversary you know. I brought you a ring." His last ditch attempts made you stop in your tracks.

"I almost died yesterday you know." 

"Would you have said yes?" 

His word cut deeper than any knife ever could. It stung more than any slap or hit. And the answer was too embarrassing to ever admit.

"Would go you have let me die?" 

...

"Goodbye David."

"Goodbye y/n." 

Then you shut that peeling red door with its rusty hinges for the last time in your life. The blood was dry, the luggage was packed. Out of all the empty threat from you and empty promises from him, this one was truthful and honest.

He would have let you fall if he found you and you would have married him if you had come back.

But that didn't happen and just like a switch, you finally turned him off. 

(Mark POV)

Even playing game didn't stop me from worrying about y/n. She had me drop her off 10 miles out from where she really lived. 

(2 hours ago)

"Okay, what's the address?"   
"Here is fine."  
"Y/n it's the outskirts of town."  
"I know, I'm about 10 miles out from here."

I looked in the corner of my eyes to see her far off look.

"Hey, Mark?"  
"Yes?"  
I looked closer while parked at a stop sign to see her delicate red lips quiver slightly.  
"C-can we get ice cream afterward? 

I was supposed by her odd notion. I turned to look and her and she turned to look at me, I saw a small smile slowly curve into her lips.

"Yeah, we can go get ice cream afterward." 

And with that she got out of the car, only the click of the seatbelt as sounds.

I watched her nod her head at from the fracked sidewalk before driving off.

________________________________________

 

My thoughts of 2 hours previous are interrupted by my phone's persistant ring.  
"Hello?"  
"Hey Mark, it's me y/n, can you come pick me up? I'll meet you at the same stop in 20 minutes."

Her voice is quick and sharp but not wavering.

I drove back the shady pitshirk of LA and pick her up. Her face was covered by her h/c hair but I could see a sad smile still. She only had a suitcase to hold her clothes and belongs but she didn't seem to care.  
"How did it go?"  
"Okay"  
"Do you still want to go get ice cream?"  
"No, I'm kinda tired."  
"...will you move your hair?"  
"No." Her voice broke at the end but she didn't acknowledge it.

I tried to delicately pry but she didn't seem to let anything in.

 

We pulled up to the house and she hung her head low as she dragged her bags inside. 

From the doorway, I watched her reorganize her room to her liking. A teal quilt worked as her bedspread and small framed pictures were neatly placed on her dresser. 

Happy, toothless smiles from when she was a child along with picure taken in her adult years. A crumpled college diploma was shoved into the farthest corner of the closet. 

Once she finished unpack she sat down the bed that was now hers and I quietly sat down next to her. Without words she placed her head on my shoulder and let out a light sigh. 

"Thank you Mark, I never realized I needed this."  
"No problem."

 

I could feel her hand sweep her hair away from her face and I saw the damage.

A small gash ran along her cheekbone accompanied with a small purple bruise by her eye.

Words failed me and I couldn't help but stare. 

 

"I won't let that happen to you again."  
"I know, I know, but sometimes, I will think of the bruise even after it's faded. And you have to be willing to deal with part of the aftermath. Because   
If you can't agree to these term, I can leave. Not back to David but I will deal with my problems o the street if I hadn't too."

"Ok."

She let out another beautifully sad sigh.

"Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that was super short but it I hoped you liked it. It was kinda of a wrap up for the character's old life so I can write more about her life with Mark. Please leave a kudo or comment if you liked it or have a suggestion for the story. Thanks for reading :)


	4. Panic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The panic attack described in this chapter is based on my own experience. I was not ever sexually abused but I was in an abusive relationship that did cause me to have anxiety and depression during and afterwards. I won't go into graphic detail but if that topic does bother you, then I wouldn't recommend reading.

You toss and turn in your bed. Your things were now where they belonged need in your room but familiar scents still lingered on the clothes. David's scent sometimes scared you but you never wanted Mark to know. He had get upset when he found out David hit you. 

All your sheet are still stained with some blood and a bit of an unspeakable liquid. It's etched there forever both in your scarred brain and those damn sheets. Your pictures are your only relief until your realize that the happy smiles with friends are 3 years old. Happy smile before you had a controlling boyfriend .

You check your phone screen that illuminates the darkness, 1:23. Your oversized shirt from from college days reaches to your bare knees and making you cold.  
It had been three week you left David. Scars and open cut still littered you frail body but you had learned to hide them from Mark. However tonight seemed to be a danger might. The first time your ex hit you was a memory that played on the inside of your eyelids and couldn't be wiped. The pain seems to real and his words seemed to true. You felt trapped in your mind, your walls closing in you. 

You feel like your suffocating but there air everywhere. You have no reason to panic but yet another panic attack was coming on. You start to sob uncontrollably at the pain of the cut that ran up at down your arms and the memories that took place less than a month ago. Hopelessness, despair, sadness, it was all coming back. Knives danced around, growing closer to you.  
Another pathetic cry escaped your dry lip and you curl further into a ball. You feel like you should be over it by now, but your not. You refusing mind can't let go of the past,

The door creaks open but your mind was too preoccupied to really care. Your shaking became more violent and your were running out of fight. You feel cold in numb just laying there. You feel so dizzy that you might fall out of your bed.

Your thoughts are interrupted when strong arms held you close. You looked up from tight ball to see Mark carrying you away from the bed. 

You feel warm pressed so close to Mark. Your tears had subsided but you still couldn't breath and your shaking was making you unstable. 

"Y/n, repeat after me, 1, 3, 6, 2, 9."  
"...o-one, t-thre-e, s-six, two, ni-nine."  
"Good, now again. 4,3,7,1"  
"4,3,7,1" Your breathing was steady now and your no longer shook like a wet leaf.

Mark laid you down his bed and laid himself next to you.

"Do you trust me?"  
You nodded in response. He carefully slid closer to you and you turn to face his. His hair was once again messy and your own cuts seemed to glow. Your ruby red lip quivered as he brushed the tears away. 

"I'm sorry."  
"Why?"  
"Because you had to deal with my panic attacks."  
"Don't be sorry, it's not your fault."  
"No, I shouldn't be so stupid and tightly wound."  
"There's medication to help prevent it ya know. We can set up an appointment to see if it would help you." 

His rich voice and kind words was so foreign to you could only nod your head in response.

"Okay then, I'm gonna go sleep on the couch ok? 

You could feel the mattress shift as Mark rolled off. 

"Mark, wait." Your words don't get caught in your throat like normal and in the darkness, Mark stops to listen. 

You take a moment to breath, no one usually stopped when you had protest. 

"Yeah?"  
"Stay. Please."  
Hopeful words both begging him to stay and wishing he would go. Wishing that he would hold you close and take the pain with that smile. Wishing he would go while your expectations were still low.

He stared at your hopeful face in the darkness before sliding back into bed with you. 

You feel his warmth radiate to you. He wrapped you into a loose hug. You sigh and melt into his arms. All your cuts heal with every breath and you panic disappearing into the cold night air. His kisses you softly on the head as your eyes close. 

Instead of seeing memories of fear and sickening pain, you see Mark soothing grin. Small day dreaming about your YouTube channel. A new future just waiting for you in the morning. 

You snuggled closer to Mark, who willingly accepted you. For the first time in the last 3 years, you feels at peace in bed. 

"Good night Mark."  
"Good night y/n."

Mark POV

 

I had heard light sounds coming from y/n bedroom. Shaking moans and mumbled word had caused me to wake up.

I rolled off my own warm sheet and crept to her room. I see her in a mess of the white sheet. Half awake, half asleep. Her h/c hair was strung around her head in a messy heap. Thin red lines littered her bare legs and arms. She wore an old t shirt that didn't quite reach her knees but I keep my eyes at a respectable distance. I watched her for a while and listen to her struggling pleads. 'No','stop' and 'please' escaped her lips in desperate cries. Her skin was paler as she gasped her for air but she acted like she didn't get any. 

Soon her tossing and turning became shaking that pounded her body like an outside force trying to shake her awake. Her e/c eyes shot open to reveal their red bloodshot veins. She curled into a tight ball and screwed her eyes close once more.

I picked up her protested body and carried her away. As soon as we reached the hallways, she had already calmed down. Although she contined to cry she stopped thrashing.

Her eyes peeled open when we reached my room and I talked slowly.

"Y/n, repeat after me, 1, 3, 2, 6, 9."  
Her lips quivered but she repeated the number sequence.  
"Good, now again, 4, 3, 7, 1."  
"4, 3, 6, 1."

I smiled in the darkness and laid her down. She sank into the mattress.  
"Do you trust me?"  
She nodded her head and slid next to her. I could feel the coldness melt from her and she turned to face me.

Her apologizes held some bit of self loathing but I tried to calm her. I didn't want to make her uncomfortable so I tried to leave for the couch.

"Wait."

I turn to see her dark outline.

"Stay please." Her eye looked hopeful and scared. I really did want to stay. The warm bed and the hopeful girl who had been through so much convinced me. 

I did next to her and could hear her fast heart slow down.

"Goodnight y/n."  
"Goodnight 'Mark."

I waited until I couldn't hear her slow heartbeat before closing my eyes. She didn't toss around in a cold sweat like earlier, but instead she snuggled close and pressed herself to me. I put my arms softly on her and smiled. I was sure she had gone to sleep in my stand a whisper a small 3 word sentence.

"I love you."


	5. Author's note

I have recently realized that this story is very poorly writen and has way too many grammatical error. For now, the story won't continue on a regular basis until I sorta this mess out and hopefully rewrite this story so it doesn't suck. Thank you to those who had have left kudos and when I come back, I might actually have a story worth your time. I'm also going through some other thing, many of which are protrayed in this story, so I don't have a time frame I will stick with. Sorry and have a good day


	6. Reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about my quick trip down the rabbit hole. Long story short, I suffer from bipolar disorder and then I wrote that quick chapter 5, I was in a really bad place. So I apologize for being over dramatic about it but sometimes I can't help it. I hope you like this especially fluff piece and thanks for reading :)

You were working your last day at Starbucks when you called Mark to pick you up. You had make your last drink and hung up the faded green apron that once held your name tag when he showed up. 

Hesitantation and worry sweeped over you as you locked up the shop. The comfort and familiarity of the dim lights and the rustic smell of coffee lingered in the back of your mind. It wasn't too late to get your job back. 

Though you counted out the days, hours and minutes till you could rid yourself of your old life, you almost didn't want to. You could utterly fail at YouTube and Mark could kick you out, it was a possibility that seemed to be the only possibility. Things couldn't actually going your ways without hurting you in the long run. That wasn't a choice in your mind. 

You stare at the reflection of the widows. A A shadowy girl stares back. Her hair is the same color as you, her eyes are the same but different. They seem less broken than the day you almost jumped off a bridge 3 weeks ago. Your cheeks looked fuller and rosy too. 

You look beyond your own image to see another one standing behind you. Mark stood closer to the car and watched with a small smile. His hair was messy as usual but there was something extra special about it today. Something cute about it. Maybe it was the way his voice was always so rich and deep. Or the way his shirt causal showed his muscular build. 

Your catch yourself before you blatantly smile at Mark. Your relationship was more...platonic than you had realized. 

In the three weeks you had stayed with Mark, you had mostly worked at Starbucks to pay Mark rent or create list of ideas for videos. Often times Mark would let you play one of his video games. Sometimes he would record, sometimes he wouldn't. However when he did record video with you in there, there was a clear and silent understood rule you didn't want them uploaded onto his channel. 

No one except a few of Mark's close friends had known that you were living with him. If it got out, it could be blown out of reasonable proportions be you would reasonable have to explain the situation. And that was out the question.

You pull away from the girl standing your reflection as Mark hands you a plastic bag with a smile. 

"I know you had been talking about making videos and stuff and so I went to a the store while you were at work and bought you some stuff I thought you might need. But um, there's a receipt if you don't like any of it.

Happiness swells in your lungs and you soon feel wet drop of liquid courage and joy escape from eyes.

"Thanks Mark, I really needed this." 

His smile widens as you puts his arms around your bony shoulder and kisses your head softly.

"You are so brave you know that?"   
"You give me more credit than I deserve." 

The two of you hop back in the car as you find the treasure Mark bought. You have enough lace to make those DIY chokers and the jean shorts you wanted. He also bought a few baking things you had been eyeing. New piping bags and some food coloring for a marble mug cake.

The softness of the car seats envelopes your head and your breathe in the air. The softness of your perfume and the cologne that lingered on Mark was perfect. You slouch down down in your seat and watch the people on other cars.

Thoughts swirl around your head like a day dream. You wonder who those people are compared to you. How many of them have ever bee abuse? How many of them cut to feel relief? How many of them live with a hilarious YouTuber?

The warm air cause you to roll up your long sleeve sweater. You sit lazily like this, sleeves rolled, legs curled into your body. But not a moment later, you realize your mistake, and Mark sees it too. 

He sees your skin stained a permanently red and pink. Long bridges of scabs and scar. A few vertical one buried deep that were from your bouts of self hate. Worse of all the fresh one. The one that stained Mark's bathroom with a fading red and were caused by stolen razor blades you found his a drawer one day. 

You quickly tug your sleeve down without taking your eyes from the reflective widow. More liquid courage forms on the corner of your eyes but you don't let hem fall. 

The two of you don't say anything for a while. The silence is crushing but you try not to pay attention to it. Maybe he didn't notice? 

"Why?" 

You look up for a moment. The car was stopped and you know you were in trouble. You still are too cowardly to look at Mark but you can see the tears welling in his own eyes.  
"It's an addiction Mark."  
"Drugs and alcohol are addictions, not cutting up your arms."

You can hear the anger raising up in his voice and you can't really blame him either. 

"They're old scars okay?"  
"Oh don't think I didn't notice the five cuts so new they could have been bleeding all over the car."  
"I'm sorry okay."  
"I trusted you, ya know. I thought that you would be better now."  
"I thought I would be but-"  
"But what?"  
"But I'm not. But I'm getting help."  
"You need help just so you won't cut yourself? Thats pathetic." 

You grasp softly as Mark's teary eyes widen. You look up and realize that you were at the house. Your eyes flicker down to see the doors were unlocked for a grateful escape.

"Y/n, wait-"  
You slam the car door close and fly into the house. No tears escape your e/c eyes. You reached your bathroom with Mark hot on your heels. The door locks a second before Mark tried the handle.   
You pull all the blade from your tampon box, the one place would he never look, as Mark pounds the doors.   
"I'm so freaking sorry y/n, I didn't mean it okay? I was just mad that I couldn't-"  
His words were cut off by his own violent sob. You put down the sliver blades that would otherwise be piercing your delicate skin  
You start to shake again but you force yourself not to cry.  
"But I couldn't keep you safe. You were taken advantage of and hurt by people. And I promised to never to hurt you and to keep you safe but it didn't. I shouldn't have yelled at you....Please answer me." 

You're stunned by his words. The sharp blade was still shaking steadily in your hands now. You open the door slowly and see Mark standing there, his curly red hair hung low and tears streaking his face.  
"I'll never cut again." Your hands take his own tan one and you careful put the bloody blades in his hands.  
He smiles as he puts you into a hug.  
"Don't make promises you can't keep."   
"Then help me keep it." You whisper softly into the cold air. You stare deeply into his brown eyes but he leans in for a kiss.


	7. Halloween

"Mark."  
...  
"Mark, that's not going to work."  
*incoherent grunting*  
"Mark!"  
"It will work! Its just taking a while."  
"...its getting hot in here, just let me help you."  
"Nope, you are the queen of DIY but I am the King of both the Squirrels and FNaF so I should be able to do this."

you roll you e/c eyes and the odd-ball man sitting cross legged on the kitchen tile in a batman costume. A white pumpkin with various shades of red crayons sticky with glitter glue on the top. He had been very supportive of your DIY channel, which was gain popularity at a low but steady rate, and was 'greatly offended' when you pointed out that your roommate, meaning him, probably couldn't do this without messing up the floor. To this he said, "Challenge accepted." What a goof.

"You're going to burn the wax and then I'll going to laugh in your prepubescent face."  
"You said my face looked fine!"  
"Well, I lied. You look like my first boyfriend in 6th grade."  
"Well, I'm taller then this boyfriend of yours anyways."  
"Nope."  
"...Shuddup."

You shifted your body and leaning against the doorway while watching him. He had already gone off the directions and used glitter glue to hold the crayons in place.  
He held the your pink blow dryer close to the pumpkin and cranked it up to high. The shininess of the wax melting made his eyes light up.

"LOOK! SEE I DID IT!"  
"Yeah but move the blow dryer away or else it wi-"  
"Nope, this is my bloody pumpkin and I didn't-"

As he taunted you playfully, the wax started to fly all over the room, as you predicted. The red wax cooled to a warm liquid as it spread across the tile, his hair and sadly, both of your faces. Amid his cries you knelt down to pull the plug on the blow dryer from the wall. Once the loud sounds ceased, only the silence and shock of the now dried wax that covered both of you and the floors like a crime scene.

"Mark, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said you couldn't have done this. If I hadn't have done that then, you wouldn't have rightful defensed your honer and then this mess wouldn't have happened and please say something because your blank stares are starting to freak me out." 

You eyed him cautiously and unknowingly tensed your body. He only sat there with his head tilted looking at his wax splattered hand.

"I wonder what red wax tasted like?"  
"What?" Your breath is hitched in your throat from your surprised and his odd question.  
"The wax. What does it tasted like?"  
"Oh, um it actually tasted like green apples sometimes if you eat the red wax and then the yellow. I'm not really sure why but that's what is tasted like for me."  
He shook his head and laughed at the mess on the floor before addressing your response.  
"Green apples? You've eaten crayons before?"  
It was your turn to laugh that his dumbfounded looks.  
"When I was younger, like 5 or 6, I was hungry so I ate some."  
"Why didn't you just ask your mom for food like normal toddlers?"  
"She was busy."  
Your think back to that foggy memory. It was an odd answer though, your own mom being to busy to give you snack. You didn't even know if you believe yourself but you pushed your unhappy childhood farther back as you helped Mark clean up.

Your scrape off the remaining wax off the floor as Mark tries to fix him botched pumpkin.  
"Agh! The wax is all broken and in pieces, just like my life."  
His lips curl into a half sad, half laughing frown. Your roll your eyes again before sitting next to him.  
"Do you want me to fix it?  
"...yes."  
"Ok then then go clean up."  
"...ok."

You turn the blow dyer back on and gently melt the chipped off wax back on and reshape the dripping so it looks bloody and realistic.  
"Done, I fix the pumpkin."  
"Yay, its so pretty now. All bloody and spooky! And quit rolling your eyes at me!"  
Your eye rolls turns into a giggle and you snap a quick photo of the completed project.  
"Is the kitchen clean yet?"  
"Yes ma'am."  
"Good cuz I'm hungry."  
"I could make spaghetti for dinner?"  
"Sure, do we still have that basil plant or did I kill it?"  
"Umm, no i think its not dead yet. Why?"  
"I bought cheese and tomatoes, I could make a Caprese salad.  
"A what salad?"  
"Don't worry its good."  
"Ah."

You both moved int perfect sync and didn't bump into each other. It was been a month since you left but adjusting to each others quirks and needs hadn't really been a problem. You learned a lot about Mark too. You learned he liked peach tea even though he called its 'girly'. It started to show up in the weekly shopping cart more often after that. And though, he would never admit it, he usually drank most of it. You didn't really have quirks like that he probably didn't do thing like that for you. 

You had loved the normal-ness of your new life. The life where you could leave the house by yourself. You think back to David. Of course you had lost contact but you still wondered. You had always been the one to keep him off the streets when he got drunk or to take the key when he decided he was 'fine'. It was the life Mark gave you. Because of him, scars were just scars and nightmares were just dreams. And somehow he understood things. After the unspoken panic attack, he understood at 2 in the morning why you needed to sleep with him sometimes. He had even been caring enough to drive you to therapy when you had been to cowardly.

You smile at Mark one more time before heading towards the fridge.  
"Hey do you want some tea?"

Mark POV

"Do you want some tea?"

Y/n soft voice called to me as I stirred the sauce.  
"Nah, I hate peach tea." I lied quickly. I listened to her still walk to the cabinet and pull a glass down. The clinking of ice and the splashing of tea make me smile but she can't see.  
"All lies Markimoo."

I guess she's learned one of my many secrets likes. She has them too but she doesn't really know it. She loves really dark chocolate. I'll see her stir coca powderin yogurt or oatmeal in the morning sometimes. I watched her eyes light up with a smile that she didn't let reach her mouth when I bought her a 95% dark chocolate bar. She only smiled and turned away. I gave it to her 3 weeks ago and she still hasn't finished 1/4 of it. 

"Hey Mark?" Hesitation in her voice is clear but I pretended to not notice.  
"Yeah?"  
"You know how that um, you were- That video of the Garry Gmod that you recorded that I was in..."  
"What about it?"  
"You wanted to post it but you didn't."  
"Well, I wasn't sure if you wanted it posted. I mean its only been a month and such but ya know, its also your video too and-" I mentally curse as I ramble before she cut me off.  
"You can post it."  
"Really?"  
"Y-yeah, I think its ok."

Her nervous glaces turns into a happy smile. I smile at her confidence and somehow get lost in her eyes. The knock at the door makes us both jump.  
"Trick-or-treater."  
"Can you get that, I'm not in costume." She leaves the room before getting an answer, she quickly runs to her room as I go to the door

I open the door and hand out candy to cute 5 years in costume while their parents hover close by. I only smile at the kids before they leave. I close the door as she comes behind me. She din't tell me what she was going as, but said it was the only thing left at Target.

I see her h/c hairs pulled into two ponytails with red and blue elastic bands. A tight t-shirt clings to her small frame like skin that match go with her red and blue shorts. Her lips are decorated in red lipstick and her eyes alternate with red and blue eye shadow.

"Really Harley Quinn?"  
"I thought you would be laughing!"  
"Why?"  
"Gee, I don't know BATMAN? Aren't I your rival's GIRLFRIEND?"  
"Oh, yeah, that's true."  
She smiles again before we return back to the kitchen. I turn on the stove and she put the plate of 'salad' on the counter. Our convention is timid and normal but its special to me. I tell her about new games that I bought on Stream and she tells me about a DIY hair dye she wants to try and make. We finish dinner quickly so we can answer the door for trick-or-treats and then watch reruns of old Halloween movie. And as she pulls a small morsel of chocolate from the fridge, I realized that I really loved her. And that scared the shit out of me.


	8. Jinx

You had jinx things. You pace nervously around a hospital waiting room. A step down from IUC but still bad new. The white wall gave you anxiety but you tired not to focus on them.

"Mr. Barnes is stable now, you can go in." 

You try to smile at the Doctor but you can only nod.

You hated this entire situation. You were the only name scribbled on his emgengy contact sheeet leaving 2 other blank lines for no one. 

You want to run away screaming and never see his threatening face again but the part that loved him makes you want to run in at kiss him. Walking in and talking was compromise.

"Y/N, you came." He flashes a white grin weakly and you try to steel your weakening knees.  
"Why?"  
"Baby-" "I am not your baby."  
...  
"Why was I on your contact list? It's been a month and 2 weeks."  
"A month, 1 week and 5 days y/n, do the math."  
"Okay, so you missed me but why did you have to get in a car crash!"  
Your rised at the end of the sentence without thinking. A silence pause fills the air and you lose your confident again.  
"You weren't there to stop me."  
"Don't you dare..."  
"It's true. You were always there to stop my reckless behavior. And I wrongfully hurt you."  
"You. Don't. Get to." You growl at the pathetic man before you with hot streaming tears that will ether fall or evaporate into the cold air. Half of you wished he wasn't there but dead instead while the other half hoped that you were in a bed next to him.

"I'm telling the truth!"  
"You don't get to turn this guilt to me!"  
"I'm not! I'm taking responsibility!"  
"You're being pathetic."  
"And what you're innocent?" 

You look at the man you once thought you couldn't live without. He in the white bed, with a white gown unable to move his right leg. The crash had caused paralyztion to his leg and required that someone come in.

"You're not fair David."  
"What? Don't think I haven't seen your videos! You whore, you're probably sleepjg with that idoit that plays game huh?  
"You're not fair." You're never been fair.  
"And don't think I don't know your secret ether." 

Your feel the blood drain from your head and body and dryly seep out your toes. Your heart quicken but you try to keep your cool.

"What secret?"  
"You may have taken all your stuff, but the trash is mine."  
"You are trash."  
"Does he know?"  
"Who?"  
"The guy you're been sleeeping with?"  
"I used to sleep with you."  
"Shut up. Does he know?  
"...no."  
"Oh? When will you tell him?"  
In the corner of your watery eyes you see his condescending grin. The one that would glow in the darkness as you were strangled in white sheet as he worked.  
But now wasn't bedtime and he could get you to save his life. You picked up your black purse and stared at the unkept floors before he tried to stop you.

"Hey! Who's gonna pay these bills now? I didn't call you here for a loving romp ya know?"  
"You can get yourself out of this mess and you can die for all I care."

Your heel make a click-clank against the tile and you quicken your pace. Mark waiting in a slient protest in the main lobby. He still hated the idea of you going in alone but you promised to come out. 

David was partly right though. You had to tell him soon. He would find out soon enough but you were running out of time.  
You smooth your green dress and flatten your hair as Mark watches you closely from a distance. 

"Mark?"  
"Hm?"  
"I need to tell you something."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two idea for this cliffhanger. A fluffy, agsty ending or a fluffy, happier ending. Please leave a comment if you have a preference or suggest or prediction. And thanks for reading


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